


Somewhere Safe

by fanfoolishness (LoonyLupin), LoonyLupin



Series: The Outer Rim [4]
Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Episode: s01e04 Sanctuary, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Planet Sorgan (Star Wars)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-17 13:01:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29350863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoonyLupin/pseuds/fanfoolishness, https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoonyLupin/pseuds/LoonyLupin
Summary: Din and the Child leave Sorgan.  Din reflects on what they have learned.
Relationships: Din Djarin & Grogu | Baby Yoda
Series: The Outer Rim [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2055645
Comments: 7
Kudos: 52





	Somewhere Safe

The sounds of the village soon faded away behind them, and Din and the child found themselves alone with Stoke and Caben, driving them back the long way to the township where they had first met. The two men were uncharacteristically somber, instead of joking amongst themselves as they usually did. 

The kid leaned over the edge of the cart, staring down the dirt path to the village. Maybe he was wondering where they were going, why they were leaving his little friends behind. Din took a deep breath, thinking back to the conversation he’d tried to have with the kid in their little hut as he packed their things.

* * *

“We have to leave the village,” said Din, packing up a stack of krill cakes and rice bars for the road. The kid sat on the edge of Din’s cot, gazing up at him curiously.

“Aaa?” the kid asked, cocking his head slightly as if to ask a question.

“It isn’t safe anymore,” said Din. “I thought — I thought you’d be able to stay here. Grow up here. But we have to keep moving.”

The kid waved his hands, his forehead creasing until he clearly wore a scowl. The expression made Din’s chest ache. He set the food down, and slowly sank to one knee in front of the kid.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I know.” _I wanted to stay, too._

The kid’s lip quivered, his large eyes bright, ears sinking down to brush against his narrow shoulders.

Din hesitated, but only for a second. He reached out and brought the kid into an embrace, holding him close against his chest. 

“It’s okay, buddy,” he murmured. “You still got me.”

* * *

Din was never sure if the kid could really understand him. But now, as the village shrank and vanished among the trees, Din knew the kid understood they were really leaving for good. The kid watched the path behind them grow faint, lost in the tall trees and underbrush, and when there was absolutely no more hint of the village, he turned back around and curled himself up against Din’s leg, hiding his face.

“Hey, now.” Din reached down and laid a hand on the little one’s shoulders, resting it there with a weight that was neither too light, nor too heavy. He’d started to figure out how much pressure was best, these past few weeks. He could feel the rise and fall of the kid’s breaths, and when he adjusted the volume equalization settings in his helmet, he thought he could hear small sounds like crying.

Din bowed his head. His hand moved, his palm rubbing gentle circles against the kid’s back, a motion he’d only figured out very recently.

“It’ll be all right,” he murmured, low enough that the villagers didn’t turn back to look at them. “I promise, kid.”

The kid’s breathing shifted into quiet, a sign that he’d fallen asleep. Din swallowed. Good. Cautiously, he leaned back, finding a more relaxing position against the back of the cart as the afternoon passed. 

He gazed upward. He hadn’t seen any of this on the previous trip; it had been dark, and he had been exhausted and injured after the escape from Nevarro and the fight with Cara Dune. He watched late afternoon sunlight streaming through the pines, slices of Sorgan’s krill-blue sky piercing through the canopy now and then. Birds sang songs to call their mates, but they also sang songs of home, territory songs, staying songs. A wild Loth-cat skittered across the road in front of them, eliciting a laugh from Stoke that he soon stifled. Along the roadside, spring flowers blossomed, washes of white and gold and blue.

Din watched the trees shift past them as they made the long slow route back to the town and the Razor Crest. The sun began to fade and fall behind the trees, setting them alight with fiery hues, and the birds began to sing their coming-home, coming-home, fading-of-the-day songs. He realized he recognized more than a few of their calls by now after their long stay.

He’d been… hopeful. Sorgan had seemed good, too good to be true. He’d let himself grow a little soft, as if a world of home and friend and family beneath an open sky was something he could claim. Something he could gift to the kid. 

He really needed to do something about that optimistic streak.

Still, though… he’d seen how the kid opened up, got braver, sillier, naughtier during this reprieve. Din had learned things, too, watching Omera and the other parents: how to comfort, how to discipline, how to attend to all the basic needs. Protection, of course, he’d known that; but he hadn’t known how exhausting it was to keep the kid from tumbling into a krill pond or a fire, or the best ways to clean food stains out of pale robes, or how to get the kid to sleep when some nights he just. _Wouldn’t._

His hand kept rubbing circles on the kid’s back, an action that was starting to become as automatic as reaching for a blaster or caring for his beskar. The kid let out a little noise and lifted his head, yawning and squinting his eyes at the blazing sunset gilding the trees. 

Stoke turned back to look at them. “It’s not too much farther, Mr. Mando,” he said. 

Caben elbowed his friend in the side. “You know he doesn’t like it when you call him that.”

“It’s fine,” said Din, faintly amused. “I appreciate you bringing us back here. It’d be a long walk.”

“We couldn’t do that to you, not after everything you did for our village,” said Caben. “We’ll never forget how you helped us. Honest.”

The kid clambered up into Din’s lap, leaning against him, resting one hand on Din’s vambrace. “And we’ll not forget your kindness,” said Din, nodding to them both.

Caben and Stoke flushed. “That’s — thank you again.” They turned back to the path ahead of them as the sun sank beneath the treetops, leaving shades of blue and violet to start creeping down the treeline. Above the trees the first stars began to gleam, white pinpricks flashing one by one as they came into their own.

Back to the stars it was, then. Din gazed down at the kid in his lap, who was looking up at him with big eyes. “We’ll keep looking for somewhere you can be safe,” he said quietly. “You and me, kid.”

The little one’s sleepy face slowly formed a smile, little mouth curling up at the edges, eyes twinkling with reflected stars. The night-birds sang their songs of waking, of movement, of heading out into the new dark once more. Din drew the kid closer, and he thought, _Yeah. Somewhere safe._


End file.
